Serenity
by Daelda
Summary: After the battle, Snow White's army camps just beyond the treeline. Snow White elects to join them, apprehensive of the fortress, and shares a simple moment with her constant companion.


Still finding myself uneasy, I got up and drifted to the edge of the tree line, stealing a contemplative look at the royal monolith that rose from the waves. It was easy to admire – skillfully planned, beautifully built, and in the moonlight, protected by water on all sides. It was one of the fortress's greatest defenses, but tonight it served as a comforting buffer between us. I should've felt comforted by the sight of it, I told myself. I should've seen it as the symbol of safety and hope that it was. Only the distrust in my heart held me from it.

All of the good memories of my youth within the castle walls felt like a distant dream; like things that happened to someone else in a different time. The stench of fear and blood I remembered better. The clanging of metal on metal and the sickening sounds of dying men still rang clearly in my ears. The image of my father's stiff body and hauntingly empty eyes – the dagger left carelessly in his chest. Those things I remembered vividly; the horror that dwelled within. The harsh years of my imprisonment did nothing to make me fonder of the place. Even the walls seemed to detest their own contents – grime from the salty air and the sea had long since stolen its majesty.

The cracking of a twig startled me and I turned to find my companion approaching. His eyes wandered up to the fortress, where he knew I'd been looking. He didn't say a word as he came to stand beside me, mild concern present on his features.

I drew the heavy cloak tighter around my shoulders, feeling somewhat soothed in his presence. I marveled at the way his nearness changed me. Today on the beach, I noticed it for the first time – the way he settled and strengthened me. Beside him I was braver somehow.

Slowly, I took my eyes off him, returning my attention to the stone walls. The exterior was unfamiliar to me, but I found myself unconsciously searching for the windows of rooms I knew; my room, my father's room, the towers where my mother used to paint. I wondered if I would still recognize them at all, or if Ravenna's vileness had stolen even the tender memories from them.

"It's not what I expected," I murmured, unresponsive to the quiet study he undertook of me. I pushed the toe of my shoe into the course sand. "There's so much memory here. I was with her when her heart stopped beating, but I can't help feeling as if she's still in there, lying in wait for me."

"Aye," he agreed in his throaty voice. "It used to be a gem, in better days, but it'll be a long time before that witch's influence is swept from the corners. It will be restored though. You have a talent for dispelling darkness, highness."

I smiled a little at that, simple as it was. It would have sounded like flattery, but for the straightness of his tone. Somewhere in the long weeks traveling together, he had become less of a riddle for me. At the beginning he was inscrutable, but as time went on our understanding grew. There was something unspoken always between us now – a bond that went beyond words and actions. At least for my part there was.

"Thank you," I said softly, breaking into the stillness of the beach and the soothing sound of the waves.

"For what?"

"Everything. I've only made it this far because of you."

"I wouldn't give me credit for it," he said. "Even if I had played a bigger role, I've done what any man would have."

"You threw your life away in defying Ravenna in the dark forest for a runaway prisoner, and long before you ever knew who I was – before you knew that I could offer you redemption." I bartered. "That isn't ordinary."

He scoffed. "That wasn't an ordinary situation. I was cheated into her service in the first place. Threatened and lied to."

"So why didn't you leave me when you got the chance? Why protect me?"

"You were worth something, you said."

"So that's why you left in the village, before you even got a chance to reach the Duke's castle and claim your reward. That tells me otherwise." I goaded.

He paused.

"You tried to sacrifice yourself to save me from that troll. You came back for me when the village was on fire. You stayed behind to save me from Finn after Sanctuary." I ignored the resistance displayed on his face. "You never left my side during the battle today and you kept the soldiers at bay while I dealt with Ravenna in the tower. At any one of those moments I would have died without you beside me. It's because of you that I'm here at all. Call yourself anything you like, but that's significant." I declared, tethering my tongue before I could ask why.

He seemed to wrestle with an answer in his mind. It didn't show on his features, but I could feel it in his demeanor. His reasons I couldn't even fathom – I told myself so at least. It was enough to think the cause was exceptional loyalty and a strong heart. I didn't need more than that from him, surely.

My mind drifted back to something I overheard Beith telling Muir in camp; that even on my deathbed in the Duke's estate, the huntsman kept vigil over me. Even when all hope was lost and everyone else had departed, he stayed beside me. My heart had the audacity to swell at the thought. Why? I wondered fruitlessly.

The huntsman's voice cut into my thoughts as if he had heard them. "You reminded me of someone," he confessed. "And seeing someone of worth sit on the throne again will be worth more than any reward."

For a moment we stood in comfortable silence, lost in our respective thoughts before he drew me back from the sound of the waves with a regretful tone. "I want you to know I'm sorry about what I said; back when we found that buck. I was young at the time, but King Magnus was fair and the land prospered under him. I shouldn't condemn him."

"You were right though. It's an ugly truth, but truth all the same. My father's legacy is weakness and clouded judgment that brought ruin on us all. I may not have liked it, but I cannot deny the truth of what you said."

Shaking his head, the huntsman relented, "The witch outdid us all, and grief can be the ruin of any man, especially with such an opponent. He doesn't deserve my scorn."

"Even that won't change his tattered legacy," I admitted. The huntsman let out a humored huff, and in confusion I cast him an irritated look.

"I would call you quite an impressive legacy. You did just slay Ravenna, Princess."

That thought hadn't occurred to me: I was my father's legacy, blooming in spite of Ravenna's wickedness. Sorrow had betrayed him to his death and downfall, but in me was his redemption – the fire to redeem him and cleanse the filth. Half of that was done, but an even more daunting task was before me. No doubt I would come to rely heavily on Duke Hammond for advice.

"The men will no longer die for causes they despise, and the women needn't deform themselves to save their children. All in the name of vanity," he spat.

"Before my mother died, she told me the rarest beauty is of the heart. Vanity is its mortal enemy. Youth is irrelevant. Power is irrelevant." He nodded, thoughtfully accepting the idea. I looked back to the fortress, "I just wish so many hadn't suffered because of that vanity."


End file.
